


Terminus

by msdisdain



Series: Consequences [3]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, F/M, includes notes about what would have happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 22:02:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6095392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msdisdain/pseuds/msdisdain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The unfinished final adventure in the trilogy that began with Consequences. What happens when the crew of Voyager is faced with the most important decision of their voyage - one that splits the crew in half?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terminus

**Author's Note:**

> Written a long, long time ago, under another name.
> 
> Original Author's Note: Although I have worked on this story as recently as winter 2001, I don't think it will ever be finished. I like so much of it, so I'm sorry that it won't be – but I don't know if I know who these people are anymore. In this newly posted version, I am including everything I have – every story fragment, every teeny bit, as well as comments from fanfic writer Jennifer Ferris, made on her last beta read (probably sometime in early 1999). Jen's comments, which as always are very good, are in caps throughout.
> 
> This new version begins with my original notes on the story, sent to Jen during that last beta series, and the notes also include her comments.

**NOTES**

_So: the crew remain for a long time on the planet. A month, probably. And they like it there: a number want to stay. They want to discuss staying for good. B'Elanna gives it to KJ straight: the Hirogen did a number on Voyager. She's spaceworthy but without Starfleet resources, will probably never be the same again. They could get out into an unknown sector of space and have a major problem...or get attacked by someone else. The ship is definitely not as well off as it obviously is in canon. (??) KJ calls a meeting, they discuss it at length. The Precept would love to have the Voyagers remain...and eventually the decision is made that they will stay._

_JUST A NOTE. THIS WOULD BE *VERY* TRAUMATIC FOR JANEWAY - OF COURSE. MY THOUGHT IS, PERHAPS (SOME OF) THIS COULD BE HANDLED INDIRECTLY. IF YOU DON'T FEEL THE NEED TO WRITE IT ALL OUT. IN A CONVERSATION BETWEEN, OH, SAY B'ELANNA AND TOM, OR EVEN CHAK. JUST - THAT IT WOULDN'T NEED TO BE ALL *DIRECTLY* JANEWAY. TALK *ABOUT* HER, NOT THROUGH HER??_

_They begin to make plans to dismantle the ship for building and whatnot. As part of their agreement with the Precept, the crew performs tasks that need to be done...fair exchange, etc. Tom and two other unknown people take a shuttle and go to a moon nearby to gather some needed metal. And on the other side of the moon, low and behold...is a wormhole. A stable one. And it leads to the AQ._

_Now what?_

_KJ of course wants to go, immediately...Chak wants to stay, wants her to stay, the Maquis are afraid to go back, they like Leriia. Big fights. B'Elanna wants Tom to go (his father) but doesn't want to go herself. Compromise: Chak tells KJ to go, and come back if all is well. Otherwise, they're staying put. Another big fight. Eventually KJ, Tom, Tuvok, Harry, most of the crew go through on Voyager. Chak, B'Ela, Seven, Neelix and the Maquis, along with a handful of Starfleet personnel who like Leriia or who have more personal attachments among the Maquis than they do in the AQ stay. Back in the AQ: Not sure of the progression of events...but Leriia will end up a Federation colony. KJ will resign her captaincy and accept an ambassadorship for both herself and Chakotay, special assignment to the DQ. She will choose to remain with him as a concession to all the things he's given up for her. B'Elanna and Tom will stay in Starfleet but they will head up some kind of testing lab or something having to do with new engines, and it will be the first project run jointly between the Federation and its newest colony. The Doctor will be acknowledged as a sentient being after a nasty fight, be named and stay on the colony. Neelix will stay on the colony. So will Seven. Harry and Tuvok will return to their families. The wormhole will be stabilized and offer steady transportation back and forth._

_AND - THE WHOLE BUSINESS IN THE AQ. THAT WOULD BE AS LONG AS ANY OF THIS WHOLE TRILOGY, IF YOU LET IT - AND I DON'T THINK THAT'S YOUR POINT. PERHAPS YOU COULD HANDLE THIS IN A ... HMM. NOT A LOG. PERHAPS A REFERENCE-SCENE OR CONVERSATION? YOU KNOW. SET IT UP BRIEFLY (EASY TO *SAY* THEM WORDS, HMM?) - THEN HAVE KATHRYN REFLECTING IN A CONVERSATION WITH - TUVOK, SAY? AS HE WILL HAVE GONE BACK WITH HER. OR SOMEBODY. YOU KNOW. 'I NEVER DREAMED WE'D HAVE TO FIGHT THE ADMIRALTY THIS HARD. HOW *DARE* THEY IMPLY THE MAQUIS CAN'T BE TRUSTED' - OR SOME SUCH._

_MIGHT BE ONE WAY TO AVOID SOME OF THE NECESSARY EXPOSITION. ?? OR PERSONALIZE IT._

_Before they get to this peaceful point, though, KJ will have quite a fight on her hands...at one point will threaten to have the wormhole closed...Starfleet won't trust the Maquis..she will argue that she has no Maquis on board...it will be a hard fight. I think._

_All subject to change._

_OKAY. TEXT BELOW. I'M ADDING A FEW SUGGESTIONS, WORD CHANGES, ETC., IN ALL CAPS. MOST OF IT'S SUBJECTIVE BULLSHIT, BUT MAYBE IT'LL BE WORTH SOMETHING OR OTHER._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Space.

Infinite in area and in possibility; millions of tiny lights blinking back at her. The universe on permanent holiday. Her Indiana childhood memories were filled with lazy summer evenings spent laying in the backyard with her family, face turned up to the sky as her father pointed out the constellations and her mother spun tales about how they had come to be. She had known her whole life that her future would be woven among the stars somehow.

At the Academy she would sneak up to the roof of her dorm sometimes, needing to be as close to the heavens as possible. Some people thought she was incredibly spiritual, and she would quickly set them straight. She needed the stars, desperately, but for study and for science. They fascinated her. And years later, she was still captivated, never tiring of looking into their fiery brilliance.

She usually preferred, however, not to view space through a gaping hole in the hull of her ship.

"...containment field is holding, but I think this should move to the top of the priority list. Can you leave what you're doing and meet me here?"

"Let me lock down this generator, Captain, and I'll be right there. Fifteen minutes, tops. Torres out."

Captain Kathryn Janeway, hands balled and resting on her hips, stared dispassionately at the flickering air before her that kept space from mingling with the corridors of deck five. It had been eight days since the cease fire with the Hirogen, and sometimes she thought her ship would never be the same. Sick bay was severely crippled. Luckily the Doctor had been on the holodeck when the medical console exploded, but because of the damage to the equipment, he was unable to fully heal many crew members. Much of the crew were tripled up in quarters due to extensive damage on the living deck. Kes' gardens in hydroponics were almost unsalvageable. They were still discovering damage and aftereffects; just that morning she had discovered an animal bone amongst the sofa cushions in her ready room.

"You look tired."

"We're all tired," she snapped, turning, unsurprised by his appearance. She raised a hand when he opened his mouth to respond. "Chakotay. I'm fine. I need to make sure that this hole goes away."

Chakotay eyed her carefully, his own face drawn despite the faint smile that glimmered in his eyes. "Could turn it into a picture window."

Janeway shook her head, exasperated, and then smiled in spite of herself. "Not funny, Commander." She stared back at the hole, one hand brushing the bulkhead nearby, her smile fading. "I can hardly stand to look at it," she said quietly. "It's like a hole in my stomach." As he stepped closer, hand raising, she moved away. "Aren't you on bridge duty this shift?"

Pain flickered briefly across his face and he quickly shuttered it. "This shift has been over for three hours, Captain. You haven't slept in twenty-eight hours."

"Checking up on me, Commander?" Janeway turned away, picking up a PADD and making a notation on it.

"As a matter of fact--yes."

"Don't."

"Kathryn." Chakotay moved forward, grasping her gently by the shoulders and turning her to face him. She stiffened, and he held her there until he felt her relax a little. "I'm not checking up on you as your First Officer. You have been off duty for three hours and you haven't eaten since yesterday. Let B'Elanna fix the hull like she's supposed to, and go get some rest."

She glared at him defiantly for a long moment and then her gaze softened. "Maybe just a little."

"More than a little. It won't do you any good to run yourself into the ground. The repairs will go on; I'll see to that."

"Well. All right." Janeway shifted uncomfortably, and he released his hands. "Will you tell B'Elanna..."

Chakotay nodded, and she moved away silently. She looked at him for a long moment and then turned, heading down the corridor and away. He let his knees fold under him, carrying his weight down to the floor. His head dropped back against the wall, his eyes closed, and a frustrated sigh escaped his lips.

It had been a horrible, trying time, he kept telling himself. They had had aborted contact with Starfleet Command; the Doctor had actually gone to the Alpha Quadrant via the relay station they had discovered. Their use of the relay station had brought them conflict and war with the Hirogen, a ruthless species bent on the pursuit and killing of creatures as profession and sport. Only ten days prior, the Hirogen had been in complete control of Voyager, forcing the crew to play out simulation after simulation on the enlarged holodeck. Voyager's crew was battling the results of that encounter now, on a huge scale. Holoemitters had been installed on nearly every deck, draining power reserves from everywhere possible. There were multiple hull breaches and damage everywhere; sick bay practically needed to be rebuilt from the ground up. Morale was at an all-time low, and this was compounded by the fact that most of the crew didn't remember what had happened to them and those that did had been locked up in the cargo bay for weeks.

Nerves were frayed. Everyone was on edge, working themselves to the bone to get the ship back up to par so they could continue home. It was a battle they were losing. As First Officer, Chakotay had been doing his best to rotate shifts, move people around so their talents could be used in the most expedient way possible. He spent long hours in his office going over ship's systems' reports, trying to help B'Elanna figure out what could be easily patched and what could not. It reminded him of his days in the Maquis, when sometimes all that got them home was one of B'Elanna's "engine bandages".

The irony of this hideous conflict coming right on the heels of the beginning of his relationship with Janeway was not lost on him.

There had been stumbling blocks. Her "dear John" letter from her former fiance had caused her to withdraw for a few days. Private mourning. He understood that. He had struggled himself with the news from home; the news that his former friends and colleagues were gone. Dead, or in prison. He held the pain close to his heart still, remembering them, honoring their memories and what they had given him. He had reached out to Janeway for comfort and she had been there to give it. In turn he had listened to her stories of Mark, her tales of the love that had faded to fond memory by the time she got his letter, but was nonetheless still present enough to give her some pain over it.

They had an argument the next week. A big one. Over Seven of Nine, as usual. It had seemed to go downhill from there, and by the time they were embroiled with the Hirogen, they were barely speaking. When he had regained himself in the middle of the World War II simulation, she had been warmer. He didn't know why, but he was grateful for it. Too much had been decided for them to let it go. But now, she was grieving the damage to her ship, and would not let him in. Two steps forward, five back. Again, and again.

"You give up too easy."

Chakotay's eyes flew open and he looked up at B'Elanna, sighing and reaching out for the hand she held outstretched. She hauled him to his feet none too gently and then unslung the kit she wore over her shoulder, sliding it down to the ground.

"B'Elanna--"

She waved him quiet. "Don't say it. I know. None of my business. Chakotay, do yourself a favor. Let me patch the hole in this wall, and you go patch the one in your own." When he said nothing, she leaned forward and touched his arm. "Voyager's her baby. Remember that. But don't let her pull back. I saw her face when she got into the lift. Go now while it's still close to the surface."

Chakotay stared at her, and then a smile quirked his lips. "What happened to the B'Elanna Torres who had no time for emotion?"

B'Elanna shrugged ruefully. "I guess she got suckered in by Tom Paris. Everyone does, sooner or later." She grinned at him, bending down and opening the kit. "Get the hell out of here, would you? Can't work with you watching me. Makes me nervous."

Chakotay snorted. "Four Cardassian convoys wouldn't make you nervous." She raised a tricorder threateningly and he backed away, chuckling, hands up. "Don't scan me! I'm going, I'm going."

"Leave that awful sense of humor here unless you want to totally alienate her," B'Elanna called over her shoulder.

Another snort of derision was her only answer, and she bent to her work with a smile as his footsteps faded off down the corridor.

* * *

He found her exactly where he expected to: standing in front of the viewport in her quarters, eyes fixed on the stars outside. Voyager cruised through the quadrant at half-impulse, giving the overworked engineers time to patch the worst of the damage before they even attempted to go to warp. Her body language told him to leave her alone, but in the last months he had learned that sometimes it was best to ignore that. She didn't move a muscle as the door opened and then shut behind him, and he crossed the room slowly to stand just behind her.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said quietly, lifting his hands and placing them gently on her shoulders. He expected her to stiffen, but she surprised him by turning and settling her cheek against his chest, sliding her arms around his waist. He held her tightly, his chin nestled in her hair, and listened to her unsteady breathing. "I know it hurts," he murmured. "It will get better."

"What if it doesn't?" she asked, her voice slightly muffled against the fabric of his uniform.

Chakotay pulled her closer, trying not to show his surprise that she was questioning the future. It wasn't something she was prone to do...ever. "It will, Kathryn," he said with quiet conviction. "The crew is battered but we are together. We'll fix this...together."

He wasn't just talking about the crew, and they both knew it.

Janeway pulled back slightly to look up into his face, sorrow darkening her eyes. "I'm sorry, Chakotay."

He leaned in, touching his forehead to hers and stroking the side of her face softly. "Do you think we could talk about it now?"

She turned her face, kissing his palm lightly, and nodded. "I'd like to take a bath, okay?" In response he took her by the hand and walked into the bathroom, crossing to the control pad on the wall and keying the commands into the computer that would fill the tub with water. She raised her hands to the collar of her uniform but Chakotay stilled her movements, reaching out and undressing her gently. _She's thinner,_ he thought, as he had every time he had seen her unclothed since the Hirogen had left. Her hip and shoulder bones were more prominent, and her waist was smaller. A yellowing bruise splayed across the right side of her stomach. Another covered her thigh just above the knee. He was careful, his fingers pulling the fabric away from the sore places with barely a whisper of a touch. She was silent through the entire process, and watched as he quickly divested himself of his own uniform. She reached out a hand and touched his left side carefully, tracing the outline of the bruise that still purpled his skin.

"We've been hurt," she said quietly, and again they both knew exactly what she meant.

"We'll heal, Kathryn. We always do." His lips stretched in a brief smile, and he held out a hand to help her into the tub. She lowered herself into the water carefully, biting back a gasp as hot water hit muscles she hadn't realized were aching, and then slid forward so he could arrange himself behind her. She settled between his legs comfortably, her head against his shoulder, hands straying to his thighs as he encircled her waist with his arms. His breath came out in an easy sigh as their flesh pressed gently together and the heat began to relax the tension from his back.

"She's never been like this," Janeway said after several minutes, her voice very low.

"I know. It's been bad, but this is the worst."

She nodded against his shoulder. "Every hole, every gash--hurts. Hurts to look at. To wonder when she'll be right again. If she'll be right again. What we do if she's not. So many questions." Her breath came out in a rush. "I hate not having the answers."

"I know you do," Chakotay said, his hands caressing her stomach. Soothing. "A lot of the crew are having problems with it."

Janeway turned her face to him. "How many is 'a lot', Chakotay?"

His head came forward slightly to lean against the back of hers, and his hands stilled on her skin. "Nearly everyone is having some sort of reaction to it, it just depends on how strong it is. I've talked to…thirty people or so, privately. Others are meeting on their own, in small groups; some are withdrawing into themselves. We…need to do something."

"Do you have a suggestion?" she asked, knowing the answer already.

"Shore leave is probably the best answer right now. Get the crew down on a planet where we can make repairs and everyone can have some time off. Being up here, surrounded by the damage, is not conducive to psychological healing. It's difficult to forget the Hirogen when you pass by the holodeck on your way to your shift or return to your quarters to find a hole in the bulkhead."

"Have you given any thought--"

"Torres to Janeway." B'Elanna's voice echoed slightly from the comm badge Janeway had set on the side of the tub.

"Janeway here."

"Captain, I have some preliminary data for you on the repairs and some suggestions for how we should best proceed. I'd like to request a meeting at 0730."

"Why don't we just wait until the senior staff meeting at 0800, Lieutenant?"

There was a long moment of silence before the reply came. "I think these suggestions are things you should hear privately, Captain, before they are discussed with everyone."

Janeway turned to share a slightly confused glance with Chakotay. "Very well. 0730 in my ready room. Janeway out." She set the comm badge back down and turned fully to face him. "That doesn't sound like good news."

Chakotay shook his head, watching her carefully. "No. But we were prepared for that."

"We've been prepared for little else these days," she said bitterly, and then touched her hand to his cheek as his expression deepened a little further into sorrow. "I'm sorry. It's hard to be optimistic all the time."

He reached out and pulled her against him in the water, rubbing his nose against her cheek. "Don't be sorry. You don't have to be optimistic with me--I just wish I had the answers we need." They held each other for several minutes, the steam rising off the water and enveloping them in warmth, Janeway's face buried in his neck and her legs curled around his waist.

"I love you," she murmured finally.

Chakotay's hands tightened on her back and he took a long breath. "I know, Kathryn. I know."

His hands slipped down to her waist as she raised her mouth to his.

* * *

"Good morning, Captain, Commander." B'Elanna stepped through the open doors of the ready room and waited for them to shut behind her before crossing briskly to the chair on the opposite side of Janeway's desk and sitting down. She placed a single padd on the surface halfway between them.

"I'm assuming from your request that you have not come to bring us good news, Lieutenant." Janeway reached out for the padd slowly.

"I don't know how I'd classify this; I suppose you should just read the data for yourself."

Janeway nodded once, activating the padd with a touch and scrolling through the information. Much of it was familiar: results of various tests and simulations the engineering staff had been running over the last few weeks. Lists of needed materials. Requests for schedule changes and notes about how this person was working or that person was working on a specific project. And then, at the very bottom, B'Elanna's recommendation.

"Do you see any other way?" Janeway asked quietly.

B'Elanna shook her head. "No. If we don't land the ship somewhere and obtain the materials we need, eventually we're just going to be adrift. The repairs need to be completed or we risk further damage--permanent damage. May I?" she indicated Janeway's terminal.

"Of course." Janeway turned the monitor around so they could all reach it. B'Elanna reached out and quickly accessed the stellar cartography database.

"Based on our current position, it is easy to see that the Hirogen were herding us somewhere--we've backtracked several weeks worth of traveling time. Usually I would say that's a bad thing, but it happens to bring us within two days journey of Leriia."

"Did Leriia have the materials we need?" Chakotay asked.

"Our surveys of their surrounding moons as well as the data we received from the Precept on our last visit indicate yes. They were incredibly welcoming and friendly; I'm sure we could negotiate for the things we need." B'Elanna watched Janeway carefully as she considered the data.

"I'm sure it's no secret to either one of you that I hate this idea," Janeway said finally, looking first at B'Elanna and then turning slightly to meet Chakotay's eyes. "But I see the necessity. Excellent work, B'Elanna; when we arrive we need to make sure your staff gets a little time off before they plunge into repairs. They've gone above and beyond in this situation."

B'Elanna smiled and gathered up the padd. "Thank you, Captain."

Chakotay moved towards the door. "We'll need to present this to the rest of the senior staff and make the final preparations."

Janeway nodded, standing. "The sooner we get to Leriia, the sooner we can start towards home again."

**~NEW STUFF STARTS HERE~**

"….be happy to pass your suggestion on to the Captain, but I'm certain that we'll be continuing on our journey before too much more time has passed, Elder."

The tall, slender councilman, whose age belied his title, smiled down at Neelix. "I understand, my friend. Just an idea, since so many of your crew seem at home here."

Neelix nodded. "It's been very easy to settle in here while the repairs to Voyager are completed. Your people have been extremely welcoming, and I know everyone appreciates it."

Elder Bosst placed a hand on Neelix's shoulder and steered him around a corner. "It's the least we can do, considering how helpful everyone has been…"

Kathryn watched them walk away. She had been enjoying a brief lunch at one of the outdoor dining areas that dotted the streets of the city. Neelix and Bosst had paused in their steps several feet from her, and she had gone unnoticed during their conversation. She wasn't sure whether she was upset or pleased with that fact. Her fork dropped unnoticed to her plate as she propped her head on her chin and looked around.

As much as she hated to admit it, her crew had adapted very quickly to life on Leriia. Several delays in the repairs had caused them to be there for over a month now. It was the longest they'd spent planetside in…well, since they'd been in the Delta Quadrant. The atmosphere was remarkably like Earth's. The people were friendly, the native food delicious. It was an ideal situation.

If they were looking for somewhere to start a colony.

 _We are not_ , Kathryn told herself for the third time in as many days—but she was no longer as certain as she had been when they first landed.

She pushed back from the table and stood, stretching briefly before gathering her plate and cup and dropping them in the recycler. Slowly she headed in the direction of the ship. She had a meeting with Chakotay and B'Elanna—a twice-weekly full update on the repair situation—but for once, she wasn't in a hurry.

She found out why as soon as she arrived.

Chakotay and B'Elanna were face to face in front of a projected schematic, and while they were talking quietly, their body language screamed out in tension. "…gone over it a hundred times, Chakotay—"

"I seem to be overhearing parts of conversations today," Kathryn said wryly, leaning against the doorjamb. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

B'Elanna broke off her sentence abruptly at the sight of her commanding officer. She paused, and shot a wary glance at Chakotay.

"Tell her," he said quietly, without pause. "She's the one that needs to know the most—and she'll have more questions than I will."

The ominous tone in his voice had the hairs on the backs of Kathryn's arms rising. "Tell me what, Chakotay?"

"We can't leave," B'Elanna bit out.

There was a long silence while Captain and Chief Engineer stared at each other. "Another delay, B'Elanna?"

B'Elanna shook her head. "Not a delay. A stumbling block, you might say. A permanent one."

Kathryn's glance swung to Chakotay. The pained resolution in his face told her more than schematics would—but she strode to the panel anyway. "Show me," she said quietly, her voice strained.

They spent five hours going over B'Elanna's data, carefully gathered over the course of the last four weeks. Over and over Kathryn proposed a solution to repair the damaged power sources; over and over B'Elanna explained the procedures they had already tried to make those solutions workable. Finally Kathryn reached out a hand and turned off the padd she'd been poring over.

"Tell me, Chakotay."

Chakotay scrubbed a hand over his face. "B'Elanna's told you everything we know." Kathryn said nothing, and waited. He let out a long breath. "The data is accurate, Kathryn. Voyager isn't spaceworthy—and, as far as we can tell, will never make it back to the Alpha Quadrant." When she was still silent, he continued, "She probably won't even make it to the next system."

Kathryn leaned back in her chair, her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. She'd known, of course, that this was a possibility. She'd even prepared for it, long weeks ago, when B'Elanna had pressed on her the importance of landing for repairs. Even before that, when the Hirogen had finally gone and Voyager had limped through space, a small part of her had whispered that the journey might be over. Still she had gone on, refusing to really believe it. B'Elanna was the best Engineer she'd ever known. If there were a solution to be found, she would find it. The possibility that there was not a solution was not something she could face. Not then.

But the facts were in front of her—cold and clear—and if there was one thing Kathryn Janeway was known for, it was believing in data. Believing in her people.

"Assemble the senior staff," she said quietly.

* * *

 _It was remarkably easy_ , she thought later. Easy to tell the crew, easy to get the agreement from the Leriian government for permanent residency, easy to put Voyager in dry dock.

Easy to give up.

Looking back, she wondered why she'd fought it so long. Some of their people—Joe Carey, Samantha Wildman, Harry Kim, and others—had been devastated by the announcement at first. As the weeks passed, though, everyone seemed to pass into a kind of calm (or numb) acceptance. After all, most of them hadn't expected to get this far, despite the Captain's promises and assurances that they would get home. Quite a few of them had stopped thinking of Earth as home and adopted the family of Voyager as their own. And others, like the former Maquis, felt that they were better off not going back at all.

Yes. Easy.

So how could she explain the fact that she still got up every morning at 0700 and walked the mile and a half outside of the city to Voyager, and continued the research that B'Elanna had abandoned with her permission?

Chakotay knew what she was doing, and knew her well enough by now to leave her alone. His memory of New Earth was long, and he recognized her behavior even as he disapproved of it. He was quiet with his opinions, though—much quieter than B'Elanna was when she found out that Tom was frequently joining the Captain at the ship.

"I can't really explain it to you, B'Ela," he snapped at her when she pressed him too hard one night. "It's a combination of things, I guess. I left Earth on really bad terms. I've done good work out here. I want someone back there to know," he began. _My father_ , he thought, and B'Elanna heard the unspoken words in his expression. "We spent so many years trying to get back to Earth. I knew that there was a possibility we might not make it—but maybe I'm not ready to admit that yet. I need to do this."

And B'Elanna, like Chakotay, learned to be quiet.

The Voyager crew went on with the process of adapting to life on Leriia. The Council of Elders was helpful and encouraging in the first weeks of transition, as the Starfleet officers tried to find their footing in an unfamiliar, non-Federation government. Faced with an uncertain future on a planet they'd only discovered recently, most of them had no idea what to do with the rest of their lives. The process of adaptation would be long and difficult, but both sides were convinced that the eventual benefits would be mutual.

Kathryn continued to work on the repairs to Voyager with Tom assisting her on some days. On others, he took charge of the team that was educating the Leriians in space travel. They had only just discovered warp travel five years prior, and their power was very limited. The Voyager crew members who were most skilled in flight spent a lot of time in shuttles, training their most promising pilots.

Three months after B'Elanna's pronouncement on the repairs, a pale, shaken Tom landed a shuttle next to Voyager and contacted Kathryn and Chakotay, requesting that they meet him immediately.

* * *

"Report, Lieutenant."

Paris stood in front of his commanding officers, hands tucked behind his back, completely at a loss for words. His eyes fixed on the sun, which was setting over Chakotay's shoulder, he opened his mouth once to speak and abruptly shut it again. He could hardly believe his findings himself; how could he possibly expect the Captain and Commander to believe it?

And what would happen if they did?

"Tom, what's the matter?" Janeway stepped a little closer, concern darkening her eyes. "What happened up there?"

Paris dropped his gaze to the floor for a moment, taking a deep breath, and then drew a PADD from behind his back and handed it to the Captain, meeting her gaze squarely. "I think it's better if you just read it, Captain."

Janeway reached out and took the PADD, exchanging a confused look with Chakotay. The touch of a fingertip brought the information scrolling across the screen, and she read it quickly, looking for what had Paris so unsettled.

_Oh my God._

A hard weight landed in the bottom of her stomach as she stared at the findings in growing disbelief. "Tom--are you--"

"I'm sure, Captain. I took seven separate sets of readings and the probe came back clear."

"Captain, what is it?"

Janeway looked up into Chakotay's eyes, and the look on her face was one he had never seen before. "A wormhole," she said finally. "A wormhole that leads home."

(stuff)

((YEAH, BUT MAYBE NOT *MUCH* STUFF IS NEEDED. THE NEXT SCENE IS THE IMPORTANT ONE HERE, AFTER ALL. MAYBE FOR THIS INTERIM BIT - WELL, IT COULD BE SEVERAL THINGS. EXAMPLE: THE ANNOUNCEMENT SHEMAKES TO THE CREW. CONCISE, BUT COULD INCLUDE ANY INFOMRATION YOU FEEL WE SHOULD HAVE, INCLUDING THE OFFER THAT ANYBODY WHO WANTS TO STAY/GO, CAN. OR ANY OTHER RELEVANT STUFF FOR THE READER AS WELL AS THE CREW.

OR, A CHANCE MEETING WITH KATHRYN AND SOMEBODY APPROPRIATE - AFTER YOU DECIDE WHAT THE SCENE IS YOU CAN FIGURE OUT WHO IS APPROPRIATE - IN THE MESS HALL, OR PLANETSIDE, OR WHEVER. WITH X PERSON GLOWING WITH HAPPINESS THAT THEY'RE GOING BACK, OR RELUCTANTLY GOING TO THE CAPTIAN AND SAYING 'I CAN'T GO BACK THERE' OR 'I WON'T GO THERE'...

EITHER WAY, A SMALL SCENE, USEFUL IN THAT IT HELPS ILLUSTRATE HER CONFLICT. BUT OF COURSE THE NEXT SCENE IS THE CRUX - AND YES, I REALIZE THAT IF YOU WRITE A SMALL SCENE HERE, IT COULD CHANGE THIS NEXT ONE, A BIT.

"Kathryn, we just made the decision to stay!"

"Yes, when we thought we'd never see home again! But everything is different now, Chakotay; this is a once in a lifetime chance!" Janeway strode across the floor and placed her hands on either side of the desk, looking down at him. "Why are you even arguing this point? Of course we're going through."

Chakotay shook his head slowly. "Aren't you even planning on asking them if they want to?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

He reached out and laid his hands over hers. "A lot of the crew have settled here, Kathryn. Not *settled for* here. And they may not want to leave." He sighed, pushing back from the desk and standing up. "Here there's no chance of going to prison."

Janeway's eyes narrowed as she looked at him. "I'll never let them put you in prison."

"The decision may not be under your control," Chakotay replied, his voice low. She moved back as if he'd struck her.

"You don't trust me." She started to back away, and he reached out and seized her wrist in one hand.

"Stop that. Don't make this a personal thing, Kathryn. Look at the information we have to go on. The Maquis are *dead* and the ones who aren't are in prison. It has nothing to do with whether I trust you, and I won't stand here and listen to you tell me I don't. Not after all this time."

(stuff)

AGAIN, A LINKING-SCENE(S) NEEDED. MAYBE CHAK, BEING A GOOD XO? AND DETERMINING WHO'S GOING TO GO AND WHO'S GOING TO STAY? A CONVERSATION WITH AYALA AND JOHNSON, MAYBE. OR BEING CHEERED UP BY THE DELANEYS. OR... AND THEN, AT THE END OF THE SCENE, WHATEVER IT IS, YOU HAVE CHAK'S THOUGHTS GOING BACK TO KJ, AND HOW SHE ISN'T GOING TO SHARE IN THIS HAPPINESS WITH THEM, BECAUSE OF THE CONFLICT HE AND SHE HAVE BEEN HAVING. THEN FROM HIS THOUGHTS, YOU SEGUE STRAIGHT INTO THE NEXT SCENE, IN KJ'S QUARTERS?

***

It was only when the door chime sounded that she realized she had been afraid he wasn't coming.

The walk from her sofa to the door had never seemed so lengthy, and she stood in front of it for a long time before reaching an unsteady hand up and palming it open. Chakotay stood in the corridor just outside, a small bag slung over his shoulder, his jaw tight, eyes shuttered. Silently, she moved aside so he could enter.

He walked past her and the door shut. Quietly she requested a privacy lockout and a communications override, barring emergencies. Tuvok was already aware that she would be unavailable until the morning. After she was finished she stood, staring at the door, trying to still her hands and ease the tightening in her throat enough to speak. Finally she turned to face him, only to be confronted with his back. He was standing in front of the viewport, his bag laying forgotten on the floor just behind him.

"Would you like something to drink?" Gods, was that her voice, that strained, harsh sound? He said nothing still, continuing to stare out into the expanse of space. To the left, and slightly below of the viewport, Leriia spun in its orbit. The image was a haunting one, and she couldn't bear to look at it any more now than she had been able to do hours ago. Reminders were something neither of them needed. She moved towards him slowly, one hand reaching up to rest on his shoulder.

"Don't go." His voice was low, strained. Pain edged it sharply, and her stomach twisted.

"We've talked about this-"

"I know." His jaw worked rigidly. "I know we have. I remember every word."

"Don't make this harder than-"

"Than what?" He turned to face her, anger bringing his deadened features to life suddenly. "Than it already is? How is that possible, Kathryn? Tell me!" His hands reached out, grasped her shoulders. "Tomorrow morning I am going to beam back down to that planet and you are going to leave. And that may be the way it ends. Damn it, Kathryn, that is not the way it should end."

"Then come with me."

"We have talked about this."

"No. No! You have talked. I have felt guilty. Hideously guilty for wanting to complete my mission, to get Harry back to his parents, Sam back to her husband. For wanting Tuvok to be able to hold his grandchild. For wanting to see my mother and sister. Not only do you condemn me for that, you refuse to share it with me." Her breath caught, her shoulders shuddering. "No. This is not the way it should end. I'll be back."

Chakotay shook his head, his eyes closing briefly. "They won't pardon us. In fact, you'll probably be ordered back through the wormhole to arrest us."

"Chakotay, you have been-"

"It doesn't matter what I have been! I was Maquis, Kathryn, and the Maquis are dead. The ones who aren't are victims of the almighty Federation justice system, spending the rest of their lives in prison. They are not going to make exceptions because I put this uniform back on and served you faithfully. It doesn't matter what I have been-to them, or to you, apparently," he finished, his voice full of pained accusation.

Janeway drew in a sharp breath, the ache in her heart deepening impossibly further. "How can you say that to me. After all we've gone through to get to this point, how dare you stand there and doubt my love?" She turned away, taking several steps and then stopping in the middle of the floor. "Maybe this wasn't a good idea."

"I agree." She heard him pick the bag up, watched as he moved into her line of vision, past her, and to the door. He stopped and they stood there for several minutes, his shoulders rising and falling erratically, she barely able to breathe through the pain. Suddenly his hand dropped to his side and the bag dropped to the floor, and he leaned forward until his head rested against the door. "I can't do this," he said, his voice so low she could barely hear him.

She moved up behind him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face in his shoulder blades. The smell of his skin, faint but unmistakable to her senses, drifted around her; she could feel his heart beating erratically. Moments passed-how many, she was unsure-and still they stood there, clasped together, in front of her door. Finally he shifted before her and she released her grip, allowing him to turn to face her.

"Kathryn." The despair, the hunger within him manifested in the speaking of her name. She didn't stop him as he pulled her to him; didn't stop him as his mouth descended to hers, his tongue seeking, demanding, his hands possessive, starving; didn't stop him as he tumbled them both to the floor and feverishly shed the most constrictive pieces of their clothing; didn't stop him as he made frantic love to her in the middle of her living room, unconsciously taking her back to the first time they had been together intimately, unable to slow his movement or steady his breathing until he had driven them both, gasping, over the edge.

She wept afterwards, rubbing her damp cheek against his as he clutched at her, realizing in some distant corner of her mind that not all the tears were hers. They lay tangled on the floor for a long time before she sat up, wiping her eyes with a corner of his discarded shirt.

"You're going to have to clean that," he said with something of his usual humor, but the light faded out of his eyes as she looked at him. Her hands were fisted tightly in the material, her knuckles white where they gripped it.

"You don't trust me."

Reality reared up and smacked him across the face with her words. So this was the way the night would go, he thought bitterly. They would make love and they would argue, and in the end, she would still leave. The events rolled out before him in a series of predictions, and he knew that he was powerless to stop them. But-damn it-he would try. He would try.

"Stop it." He reached forward and pried her fingers away from the shirt, gripping her hands in his. "I have always trusted you, from the very first day, and you know it. If you're going to deliberately cause me pain, at least use the truth to do it. "He pushed up from the floor, grabbing his briefs and pants on the way up and beginning to dress. "We might as well have this out now, Kathryn, because we both know it's going to consume most of the night."

"It doesn't have to." Janeway turned her face away as he picked up his shirt.

"Yes, it does," he replied quietly, shrugging into the cloth. "Because I want you to stay and you want me to go, and tomorrow, we both lose." He walked over to the replicator. "We should eat something."

"I'm not hungry."

"You never are, Kathryn, but it doesn't mean you shouldn't eat." Quietly he called up soup, bread, and coffee, setting it out on her table, and still she sat unmoving in the middle of the floor. He walked over slowly, crouching down next to her. "Come on. You need to eat. Please."

Janeway tilted her head to look at him, and her hand came up to caress the side of his face. "I love you."

Chakotay's throat tightened, and he laid his hand on top of hers, stroking the slender fingers gently. "I know." She let him draw her up, then, and together they walked to the table and sat down.

Later he would not remember what they ate. He would only remember the wooden bearing of her shoulders as she bent over the soup and tried to eat, for him. He would only remember the tears that burned in the back of his throat as he tried to swallow around them and not become consumed by the the knowledge that this might be their last meal together. She might never again sit across from him like this; he might never again have the chance to tease her into eating vegetables, to admonish her for drinking too much coffee. He would remember the sorrow that hung in the air so thick he could see it, watch it war with the mistrust and the feelings of betrayal and the abandonment. He would remember looking at her, and knowing that in the morning she would take a piece of his soul away with her. And he might never get it back. The knowledge almost choked him.

She sat, curled up on the chair, and watched him clear the dishes away. He wasn't a neat person; clutter defined the areas of her quarters he had taken over in the last months. His shoes were behind her sofa. PADDs of crew rosters and duty schedules lay in a precarious pile on her coffee table. Spare uniforms were folded haphazardly in the drawer she had cleared for him. He would forget to rinse the sink after shaving. He left wet towels on the floor instead of walking them the few extra feet to the recycler. Most of the time she would laugh and call him a slob, threaten to kick him out for good. To please her, he would clean, complaining all the while.

That he was clearing the table silently, quickly, told her more than she could bear to realize.

"Are you tired?" She asked, folding and refolding her napkin.

His hands stilled on the dishes. "I don't want to sleep."

"Chakotay." The intensity in her voice, pitched so low, had him moving back to her. "I don't want to spend the night arguing. We know we're not going to agree. That nothing will change. I don't want to go home with ugly memories of tonight."

Chakotay looked down at her for a long moment, pain etched deeply into his features. "That's the problem, right there, Kathryn." He held his hand out, and after a moment's hesitation she took it, following the pull of him to her feet. She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to finish. "You're going home. I'm already there."

"Leriia. Then you have started thinking of it as home."

He threw back his head, closing his eyes briefly, struggling to hold on to the ends of his patience. "Kathryn. No." He shook his head. "No. Home is here," and he reached forward and spread his hand flat on her breast, over her heart. "And here." He grabbed her left hand and pulled it to his chest. "Location means *nothing* to me, don't you know that yet?" Slowly his hands came down, falling open at his sides. "Every time I come back to you, I come home."

A tear broke free from her lashes and rolled down one cheek. Neither made a move to wipe it away. "I have to complete the mission." Kathryn's face. Captain's voice. Never had they seemed so at odds. Chakotay stepped away, resolutely.

"No one knows that better than I do." He walked over, picked up his bag, and continued into the bedroom. Janeway walked slowly around her living area, straightening pillows, folding the tablecloth. She could hear Chakotay moving around, heard sounds and let her mind deny that he was packing. Clearing his things out of her room. Clearing himself out of her life.

She had to go. She'd been over this a thousand times in her mind since Tom had found the wormhole. She had a duty. To her family. To her crew. To Starfleet.

 _What about to yourself, Kathryn?_ her mind chided once more. She wandered over to the viewport and forced herself to look down at the planet. It had seemed like such an oasis when they had spent their shore leave there so many weeks ago. Before the Hirogen. Before the letters from home. Before the wormhole. She had bought fabric; paid a dressmaker handsomely to sew a dress for B'Elanna. To thank her. That evening, she and Chakotay had given it to her, over dinner with Tom. She had been speechless--touched--and no further words had been necessary. The four officers had eaten and laughed late into the night, and from that moment on, Kathryn and Chakotay had _been_. Discreetly, yes, but the denial was over.

Now the planet hung below her, shrouded in dark clouds in her mind's eye. Tomorrow it would swallow Chakotay from her life. She would take her ship and what was left of her crew and leave. Leave him.

 _Damn it._ She would be back. She would. And damn it, he would believe her before the night was over. She whirled on one heel and stalked into the bedroom.

A drawer lay open, empty. The bathroom lights were on, and she saw his shadow moving across the floor. He had a toothbrush here, she thought. His favorite towel. A pair of shoes behind the door. A robe hanging on the wall. Shaving soap. A hairbrush. Her mind took inventory dispassionately as her heart pounded, seeing the changes to the room already. The woven blanket he had brought over from his quarters when he claimed hers weren't soft enough was folded and laying near the door. Her closet stood open and she could see the empty hangers where two shirts and a pair of pants had hung. She spotted an unfamiliar object on the dresser and walked over to it, picking it up in trembling hands.

The stone was a pale gold color, polished smooth. The design carved into it was one she knew well.

...

"You still haven't told me what this means," Janeway murmured, her lips brushing gently over the lines inked into his shoulder.

Chakotay laughed. "Very impressive, Kathryn. You managed to wait three days before you asked me."

She punched him playfully in the arm. "Quiet, Commander." She lay with her arms encircling his stomach for several moments. Waiting. Finally, she said, "Are you asleep?" She felt him shake his head. "Well, then, are you going to tell me?"

He rolled over to face her. "You told me to be quiet," he grinned.

She shook her head, exasperated. "Difficult. I didn't know you were so difficult." He quirked an eyebrow at her and she sighed. "Okay. I knew. So?"

"The circles." He said it musingly, but in the tone of his voice was something else. Expectation, maybe...or trepidation? She wasn't sure. His hand came up between them, clasped hers, held them to his chest. "It's a custom, among my people."

"That's a surprise," she smiled.

"Sshh." He laid a finger across her lips to silence her, and then moved his hand to cup her face. "It may only be a family tradition. I've never really been sure. I've had this one," and he nodded his head slightly to indicate the feather that arched gracefully over his left eyebrow, "since I was a boy. Tribal custom. The circles I've had for nearly four years."

Her face crinkled in confusion. "You got this tattoo somewhere in the delta quadrant?"

Chakotay nodded, his face suddenly very serious. "The Doctor did it for me, my first month on Voyager. I performed the necessary rituals on the holodeck, and then he came there and copied my design."

"Why?" Her voice was quiet. A whisper along his face.

He took a deep breath, searching her gaze. "My father told me that every life is a circle, that you begin at one point and eventually you make your way back there. He taught me that one of the most sacred joinings a man can make is to combine his circle with that of another." His fingers brushed her skin gently. "The symbol is placed on the flesh when you meet that person whose circle is destined to combine with yours."

Janeway went very still, her mind grasping at what he was saying. "Then--"

"Yes."

"That soon?" she whispered, her eyes bright. He nodded, unable to trust his voice for a moment.

"That soon," he said finally, his voice thick.

She sat up, pulling her with him until they both knelt in the center of the bed. One hand lightly on his shoulder had him turning just enough so she could see the markings again, tracing their path delicately with a fingertip. "I'm honored," she whispered.

"No." He caught her hand in his and pressed a kiss to the palm. "The honor is mine, Kathryn."

((GOD, I STILL LOVE THAT SCENE...THAT WHOLE BIT WITH THE SECOND TATTOO, AND HIM TELLING HER, AND... HARDENED CYNIC THAT I'VE BECOME LATELY, IT SEEMS - I STILL LOVE THIS!!))

...

Janeway traced the design he had carved into the rock, once, twice. Again. The circles of their lives, bound together. Solid, she thought, like the stone he had chosen. It had taken great hardship for the two of them to finally join, and it was just another cruel irony that once again, she was being forced to choose. Home, or Chakotay.

 _Were_ they one and the same?

She transferred the weight of the stone to her left hand and reached out her right, picking up the picture that rested on her dresser. Her mother and sister smiled out at her, their lips curving the same way she knew hers did. Four years since she had felt her mother's arms around her. Four years since her sister had teased her about working too hard and warned her to make time for love. Now, she'd made time. But in the morning, she would leave it behind for one more chance to see these women again. The women who had nurtured her throughout her life. How could she pass up that chance?

How could she walk away from him?

But the decision had been made already. She put the stone and the picture down on the dresser again.

"You always wanted me to pick up my things," Chakotay said from the bathroom doorway. She turned to face him, and saw that his arms were haphazardly loaded down with the items he had kept there. Slowly she walked over, her fingers reaching out to touch the tip of one shoe, the edge of the towel. It was a scene she had never imagined, and it was incredibly devastating to stand before him as he carried his life away from her.

"Are you sure that's not my towel?" she asked, trying to smile.

"No." His answering smile didn't reach his eyes. "But I'd give it to you if you would stay."

"I can't."

"I know." He opened his arms and let everything slide to the floor in a heap, stepping over the pile to pull her to him for a brief moment before taking her by the hand and leading her to the bed. She thought he would kiss her but he pulled her to him, chest, hip, thigh pressed to hers and just held her. He was silent for so long, his chest rising and falling unsteadily, that she could hardly stand it. Her own breath caught in her throat time and again, and over and over she fought back tears. She did not want to spend their night together crying. After several minutes his breathing began to slow, and she realized he had fallen asleep. Carefully she unwound his arms from around her and slid off the bed, walking out to the living area to her desk. A PADD lay on the corner and she picked it up with trembling hands, activating it with a touch and scrolling through the contents slowly. Tears slid silently down her cheeks as she read the words one last time and closed it with a thumbprint. She picked up a small picture frame in the other hand and walked back into the bedroom, carefully nestling both items in the bottom of Chakotay's bag. Then, quietly, she crossed back to the bed and knelt down beside him.

((I ASSUME THIS WAS DELIBERATE - THAT YOU EITHER HAD SOMETHING SPECIFIC IN MIND, OR YOU WERE JUST CREATING AN OPPORTUNITY FOR YOURSELF - WITH THE INTRODUCTION OF THIS MESSAGE FROM KATHRYN TO CHAK, THAT YOU HAVEN'T TOLD US ABOUT YET. DON'T FORGET ABOUT IT, THAT'S ALL!!))

His face was drawn even in sleep. Gently, she reached out and stroked the familiar lines of the tattoo that arched over his forehead. She could have drawn the design in the dark. His hair fell over it partially and she brushed it away, her fingertips memorizing the contours of his face. The firm chin, the nose slightly crooked from the time he'd broken it in a Maquis skirmish. She knew every inch of him intimately, and she knew what lay in his soul and in his heart. He was the best man she had ever known, and the finest she had ever had the privilege of loving. And tomorrow, she would watch him transport off their ship to an uncertain future, one she was not sure she would be a part of. No matter what she said to the contrary. No matter how strong she pretended to be, it could not give her the one thing she needed: certainty that this man would be in her life until its end. The thought of never seeing him smile at her again was enough to make the nausea rise up in her throat, enough to allow a sob to escape her lips.

He was awake instantly. "Kathryn?" Shaking off the half-sleep he had drowned in for a brief time, he focused on her completely. She was crying, silently, looking at him, her hand hovering just above his shoulder. He sat up, taking her hand in his, and drew her back up to the bed and into his arms. She clutched at him, frantically, as her hands opened and closed on his back. His own emotions were teetering on the edge so precariously that he found he was crying as well, his arms locked tightly around her. "I don't want you to go. I know you have to. But Gods, Kathryn..." the words choked him, and he buried his face in her hair, the tears sliding hotly into the auburn mass.

"I know...I'm sorry..." He could barely hear or understand her, as she repeated the apology again and again. As his own breathing began to calm, his tears drying on his cheeks, his body began to react to the closeness of their embrace. Carefully, he tried to move away, and Janeway lifted her face from his chest. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, mouth still trembled. But her eyes held passion behind the wildness and she tipped her head back, eyes sliding half closed, hips moving towards him unmistakably. He let out an involuntary groan as her pelvis rubbed his erection through the cloth that separated them. "Kathryn...I need you," he whispered, and she nodded.

"I know. Me too." Together they eased up onto their knees, and began a familiar journey they had taken many times before. Clothing was removed slowly, bodies explored carefully, reverently. Each tried to memorize the other, lips and fingers covering every inch of skin they could reach, murmured endearments and encouragement mingling with faint moans and shaky breathing. When Chakotay finally slid into her, over an hour later, tears overtook them both for several minutes until the urge for completion became to strong to resist. Janeway sobbed his name into his neck when she came, as he silently pumped his life into her. And as the hours passed, and Leriia spun below them, haunting them, they said goodbye to each other, over and over again. Finally, two hours before dawn, they slept, forced to it by complete emotional and physical exhaustion, wrapped around each other in the middle of her bed.

. . .

Janeway knew as soon as she woke that he was gone. The bed beside her was empty but that normally meant many things; that he was showering, or preparing coffee, or working at her desk. Maybe he had an early meeting, or was having breakfast with B'Elanna. Or he'd forgotten his clean uniform in his quarters. But today, the empty air in her quarters told her more than she needed to know.

The PADD she found on the bedside table only added to the knowledge. A shaky breath escaped her lips as she reached out for it with trembling hands, activating it with a touch.

 _Kathryn,_  
I couldn't beam down with you watching. I'm sorry. We said everything we needed to, last night. You know what is in my heart, and I know what yours holds. I will trust, and wait. And love. Always.  
Godspeed.

A surge of panic welled up in her as she clutched the letter to her chest, staring unseeing around her bedroom. His bag, his blanket, were gone. And on the dresser lay the stone. His parting gift to her. Blindly, she got out of bed, walking unsteadily to the viewport in the dark and staring out. Down. He was down there, somewhere.

She spread her hand wide on the glass, leaning forward until her forehead came to rest against it. "Computer, location of Commander Chakotay," she whispered.

_Commander Chakotay is not onboard Voyager._

The pain of the acknowledgement was like a knife through her chest, and she stumbled over to the sofa and sank down on it. His scent was everywhere, but every physical trace of him was gone. Like he had never been. _He's not dead. You are coming back_ , the rational side of her mind chanted, over and over. Numbly she showered and dressed, ignoring the empty place next to her folded uniform.

At 0715 he door chime sounded. She was up and to the door in one rapid movement, palming it open, and was unable to hide her stricken disappointment that it wasn't Chakotay.

"Did you get a letter?" She'd never seen Paris look so pale. So sad. She nodded, ushering him in.

"She was gone when I woke up. Told me not to beam down and say goodbye. Said she'd see me soon." He sat down hard on a chair, staring up at her. "I wish I'd never found the goddamn wormhole."

Janeway crouched down in front of his chair, reaching out and laying a hand on his arm. She spoke with more reassurance than she felt. "We'll be back, Tom. We'll come back for them. All of them." She willed herself to believe it, and she sighed inwardly when he finally nodded. "We have some time before duty. Can I buy you breakfast, Lieutenant?"

"Breakfast on your rations? Who could pass that up," Paris said, trying to muster some of his usual good cheer. Janeway patted his arm and smiled as best as she could, rising and crossing to the replicator.

"Computer, display total, replicator account Janeway zeta nine."

The total flashed up immediately, and she stared at it in confusion. Then, the realization sank in, and she felt the pain rising in her chest again. "Damn you..." she cursed softly.

"Captain, what's the matter?"

"He transferred his rations to my account," Janeway said, her voice low and strained. One reality after another, piling themselves on top of her until it hurt to breathe. She heard Paris move, felt him come up beside her and lay his hand on her shoulder.

"Well," he said finally, "he'll be sorry when we come back and he spends the journey home eating leola root."

Janeway looked at him sharply, and then laughed a little in spite of herself. "It'll be fine," she said, unsure of who she was trying to convince. Paris looked down at her soberly, and nodded.

"If you say so."

AND I LOVE THAT ONE TOO - WITH PARIS. YOU COULD MAKE HIM A PRETTY USEFUL DEVICE IN THIS, I THINK. HE COULD BE ONE OF THE FEW PEOPLE SHE COULD TALK TO, FOR EXAMPLE, IN THE AQ AGAIN. HE UNDERSTANDS, *AND* HE'S MISSING B'ELANNA AS MUCH AS SHE MISSES CHAK. AND HE UNDERSTANDS THE SYSTEM, TOO. SO SHE COULD RANT AT HIM, OR TO HIM, ABOUT THE OBSTACLES SHE'S HAVING TO FIGHT.

OR, FOR THAT MATTER, USE HIM EVEN MORE DIRECTLY - HAVE OWEN PARIS BE THE ONE PERSON WHO WILL LISTEN TO THEM, BECAUSE HE'S BEEN FORCED TO *SEE* HIS SON AGAIN AFTER ALL THESE YEARS. AND LISTEN TO HIM. SO SHE LETS TOM INTERVENE, OR SOMETHING? ENOUGH TO GET AN OPENING, AT LEAST?

* * *

(final scene)

There was a shout from next to her and she was aware of Paris running, gathering B'Elanna up in his arms and swinging her around. She could hear the sounds of her crew rejoining; of being welcomed back by family and friends alike. Behind her she knew Tuvok stood, calm and centered, observing. But she saw only Chakotay, standing across the square from her, mere yards away.

_And that's it! So you all know it has a happy ending...it's just what happens in that middle section that remains a mystery._


End file.
